


The First Kiss Instinct

by rockthecliche



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockthecliche/pseuds/rockthecliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things happen for a reason -- whether you know what that reason is or not, that's a whole other story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Kiss Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> I was just interested in seeing how these two meshed at the time, and I think it came off rather well. (: I hadn't been in KAT-TUN fandom for long at that moment, so exploring was pretty vital for me at the time.

They giggle and touch sometimes, fleeting grazes of fingers on skin, the quirking of lips into small, secretive smiles, words sweet and luscious and honey-soaked, and Taguchi thinks that there might be something there, or is he hoping there is? He can't quite tell the difference in his mind, but nothing changes the fact that Kamenashi makes his stomach flip-flop and his heart skip a few beats.

He suspects Kamenashi might feel the same, if the slow, secret kiss they share after hours in their dressing room one day is anything to go by, but neither of them really talk about it, and Kamenashi takes to avoiding Taguchi, and try as he might, he just can't figure the other out. He thinks maybe it was a fluke; just two people who trusted each other, getting their anxieties and vulnerabilities out of their systems. It becomes a non-issue, but Taguchi isn't that airheaded to be fooled by himself. The kiss hangs in-between them like some sort of awful past mistake, and pretending it wasn't there only made it worse, especially when the other person was perfectly aware of the fact that they were trying to pretend it wasn't there.

But even if the words stop, the butterflies don't, nor do the fleeting touches of skin on skin from fingers to arm or cheek, and Taguchi is perfectly fine and content to let whatever it was go away, if only to protect the leftover sensations he receives in the aftermath. For all that he acts like the big, bad dumbass in the group, Taguchi isn't, or at least he's very aware of the fact that things have changed, but he can't tell whether it's been for the better or the worse yet.

And for all that his life seemed to involve partying and sex, Akanishi wasn't as dumb or simple-minded as his reputation made him out to be, and Taguchi was surprised at the fervor he had when it came to his ritual sniping battles with Kamenashi, except they seemed... _worse_ , lately. Like his words weren't just meant to be words to get a rise, but words loaded with poison, caustic stinging and the _truth_ , underneath layers of hidden meaning and subtleties. Taguchi didn't get involved -- none of them ever did, except Koki every once in awhile when things got _really_ bad -- but sometimes, felt like he _should_ , just...because. Because Akanishi is one of his best friends, because he always just _knew_ when something had Taguchi shaken, because Kamenashi always looked so pained, because _both_ their eyes would flicker towards him ever so briefly, and that was probably the biggest reason to get involved. Taguchi was already involved, but he didn't know how or why.

But the kiss changed everything. Because the touches and fleeting glances didn't mean anything until you put something with more of a context to it, and you can mistake and misunderstand pats on the back or big hugs, but a kiss presents an awfully convincing argument that something more is there, and that concrete fact terrified Taguchi more than anything. He didn't want to think about how he felt for Kamenashi, but since that cursed kiss, he wanted to kiss him again, touch him, feel the skin underneath his shirt, preferably smooth and very bare against his own. It was hard to watch Kamenashi move around the dressing room practically avoiding his very presence. It hurt. Besides wanting to pin the other man up against a wall and doing wicked things to him, at his very core, Taguchi had a friend in Kamenashi, and if he was going to lose anything, he'd rather lose his lust and desires. Akanishi told him over yakiniku that real life wasn't some ridiculous Korean drama, to stop being selfless and start being selfish; Taguchi almost retorted with his opinions on how easy that obviously was for _him_ , but decided to just let the issue drop. This was his self-professed 'right thing to do', and if something suggested otherwise, then maybe he'd think about it.

It was as if someone heard him, though, because Kamenashi slid into the seat next to him on the van back to the hotel after a day of concerts, leaned his head against Taguchi's shoulder like he always used to, talked his ear off about the concert or the sky or the clouds or whatever, like nothing changed. Taguchi couldn't reconcile in his mind if this was a good thing or not and decided to go with it for Kamenashi's sake -- and maybe for his own, a little.

Back at the hotel, they all dispersed and went their own separate ways, Taguchi dumping his bags on his bed, faceplanting into the fluffy pillows and freshly laundered sheets. A few minutes later, a knock came from his door, and he groaned, rolling over to get on his feet. He pulled the door open.

"Hi," Kamenashi said, a bit nervously.

"Hey," Taguchi replied, quirking his head at him. "Er...what's up?"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." Taguchi opened the door wider, letting him in, then shut it softly behind them. He turned back towards the rest of the room, but Kamenashi was right there, blocking his way, peering up at him, eyes dark and serious.

"I like you."

Taguchi blinked. "...um, what?"

"I _like_ you," Kamenashi repeated, tongue peeking out to run across his lips, wetting them, something he did that always drove Taguchi crazy, and that alone was enough to make his head swim with uncertainty and a little bit of confusion.

"I'm...well. I'm not really sure what happens now," Taguchi said after a brief, pregnant pause.

"Well," Kamenashi began, taking a step back, looking like his flight response was kicking in hardcore. "Either I run out of here because I royally fucked things up between us, you tell me you need to think about it and I run out of here feeling like I royally fucked things up, or you won't mind if I tell you that I _want_ you, so bad sometimes I can't even think straight with you around."

"Obviously you're not thinking _straight_ at all," Taguchi said before he could stop himself, which probably was the worst part, besides the fact that he was fully aware at how dismissive he sounded. At the slightly crestfallen look on Kamenashi's face, Taguchi took one, two steps forward, then stood there, staring at Kamenashi like the answer would magically manifest itself in the air surrounding them. It didn't. It didn't really need to at this point. "But," Taguchi continued. "I don't think there needs to be much thinking, in this situation." And in this situation, indeed, the both of them less than a foot apart, Kamenashi's eyes never leaving his, Taguchi looking like a predator in the wild, because it clicked, and the wave of lust that washed over him when Kamenashi told him he wanted him was unforgettable; his hand gripped Kamenashi's hip, pulling him closer a tiny bit, and Taguchi slanted his lips over the other's, sealing off all potential noises of surprise, shock and otherwise. This, Taguchi thought, _this_ was what he wanted, too; the gentle yet insistent tugging of his hair, the way Kamenashi fit against his body, how their lips and tongues kissed and coaxed and teased, filing away for future reference the ways to make the other whimper, their breaths hitch.

"I'm sorry," Kamenashi breathed across Taguchi's lips, once they broke apart for air.

"For what?" Taguchi asked, lips nipping the skin underneath his ear.

"For having someone like Akanishi tell me how stupid I was being. We could have been doing that for weeks." Kamenashi pulled away a little to touch their foreheads together the best he could, even though Taguchi was almost a whole head taller than him. He leaned down and met him halfway instead. "I mean. Really. _Akanishi._ "

"I guess even he has good ideas once in awhile."

"Guess so." Kamenashi paused. "So...what now?"

"Right now?" Taguchi mused, beginning to walk them away from the doorway and towards the bed, taking the initiative and removing both their shirts. He gently pushed the other man onto the bed once the edge hit their knees and he hovered over him, eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Well -- I'm sure you can use your imagination." Taguchi's fingers popped open the button on Kamenashi's jeans, then lowered the zipper, then tugged them right off.

"Wait," Kamenashi whimpered, hips bucking upwards as Taguchi cupped him through his boxers. "Should we thank Akanishi?"

"Meh. I'll send him a fruit basket," Taguchi replied.

Kamenashi's laughter echoed and bounced off the walls, gradually fading away as mere wisps in the air, as breaths came in short gasps and bodies moved and increased in speed, in sync, still not one-hundred percent certain of what they were, but positive that they could figure it out, figure each other out, figure themselves out. Taguchi wondered why relationships always had to have such a turbulent beginning as Kamenashi gave a sigh in his sleep, turning to nuzzle against his shoulder. He smiled, forgetting the cliche (or rather, deciding it was worth the old story this time) and slipping an arm around the other's waist and let his eyes fall shut and let his mind stop thinking. He really wasn't qualified to question love's M.O., anyway.

He'll just take things a step at a time. First things first: getting Akanishi that fruit basket.


End file.
